Hello there, Merchant. Find what you are looking for here in the market?

I see the lust in your eyes, as I see in all men who lay their gaze upon me. Let me introduce myself. I am Thea, the Gypsy Princess of Paris. Many men like yourself have tried for my hand, but as they leap and lunge for my love, none have ever been able to uncover my mystery.

Yes, Merchant. That’s right. Before you win me over you must first guess my secret. I’ll take you on a wandering journey, through these dirty, cobblestone Parisian alleys, providing you clues and limericks along the way. If you can guess my secret before the great bells of Cathedral Notre Dame ring six, I shall be yours forever. Guess not, and it shall be another man who vies again tomorrow.

Hear that now! That’s the mid-day toll. Twelve I counted. We best move quick… It will take you until sundown to uncover…

First Clue

Look now, Merchant. Here on the Champs-Elysees our shadows are small beneath the mighty ball of yellow fire that lights our sky. As the world illuminates in its shine, my olive skin does as well; attracting many a man who long for the exotic intrigue of a Gypsy Traveller. But even as the sun sets, and a darkness comes over the City, my secret ensures that my smooth, bronze skin keeps its golden hue. What say you, Merchant… have you got a guess?

No. Not yet, you don’t. Another clue may help, but time is ticking. The bell tolls in the afternoon air. Two! We still have time, but we must not wait!

Second Clue

The Seine’s flow is unending. Lie in its waters and your only choice is to let its mighty current pull you with it. Swimming against it is no option, much like my refusal to confront my secret…

You see, Merchant, sometimes my secret is even a mystery to myself. I refuse to acknowledge it. To accept it for what it is – my curse. But a curse brought on by no witch or sorceress, but by myself! Yes, Merchant. My secret is a creation of my own. Something I battle and fight, forging a campaign of hopeless struggles. Yet, no matter how many times I fight to the point of misery and fatigue, I fail to admit my powerlessness against it.

Surely, Merchant, you must now have a guess. Please, tell me what the secret behind my golden shine and internal turmoil is!

Still nothing, Merchant? Hmmm… maybe I thought more of you. The bells now count to four. We have one last chance. Time for a final clue. Otherwise, your loss is another man’s victory…

Final Clue

Feeling out of place, Merchant? I scoff at your cowardice and unease! You see, this encampment here, right under the nose of the Parisian noble, is my Gypsy kingdom. Let’s settle your worries with a drink…

Sit, Merchant, as I pour us a cup of Bull’s Blood…

Merchant! Merchant! Oh my… surely you didn’t think I would force us to swill the actual blood of a bull? No, my friend! But what a laugh you have given me! Bull’s Blood is just its name, given its dark red color. You see? It’s what we native Roma call this favored spirit of ours. Go ahead. Drink, Merchant. Delicious, isn’t it?

Do you know now, Merchant? Do you understand my mystery now? Well, look no further than your cup to understand! This is your clue, Merchant! This is the key to my secret!

I can hear the bells beginning their sixfold toll now! Merchant, time is up. You must guess or lose me forever!

My amber visage…

My constant denials of its existence…

The scarlet drink in my cup…

Merchant, bring forth your answer now!



The jaundice gives me my yellow complexion, and the shame brought on by my chronic alcoholism causes me to neglect its reality. And of course, the wine is the root of it all.

Merchant, I am yours forever! I shall be your Gypsy bride and bring forth from my loins your congenitally deficient children!

Wait…wait, Merchant, where are you going?

Merchant! Hey, come back here!

You guessed correctly! I’m yours, Merchant, forever!

Come back, you haven’t even finished your wine!

Well, more for me than.